


Switch-Off

by orphan_account



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Age Difference, Anal Sex, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Sibling Incest, alternatively titled dave strider is a whiny bitch when he bottoms, not quite porn but close enough
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-10
Updated: 2013-02-10
Packaged: 2017-11-28 21:33:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/679107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Dave Strider plays reluctant catcher and his little brother finally gets a chance to pitch.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Switch-Off

**Author's Note:**

> not tagged as "underage" since dirk is eighteen here!!!

Dave babbles the entire time you finger him, rambling his way through the first two fingers and complaining all the way through the third, hissing out that if you're going to fuck him you may as well just _fuck him already._

(it's not like your dick is big enough for three fingers anyways, little man)

(Shut up and bite the goddamn pillow already, jesus.)

He makes a horrible quip about you blocking his emergency exit when you start pushing in, hisses when you try to take it slow that the anchorman has already forecasted traffic on the southbound tunnel so you may as well hurry up and fucking put it in already, and mutters curses under his breath when you slide the rest of the way in like he asked you to.

He's so fucking tight and it feels like velvet around your cock, and you struggle to keep it together and not blow your load two seconds in. You tell him so and he lets out a groan where his face is pressed against the mattress, and instead of sounding distressed or needy like a normal guy with his little brother's dick jammed up his ass, he just sounds exasperated.

(if youre going to go spelunking the least you can do is attempt to find my prostate kid)

(Working on it, dude.)

It takes a few minutes but you find it, and you know you've found it because he babbles that there, thats it, fucking finally kiddo, and you're too distracted with the way his walls tighten around you to be squicked out by the petname.

You snap your hips forward, kiss him between the shoulders and dig bruises into his hipbones. He's finally starting to lose control underneath your hands, chest heaving and eyes squeezed shut and fuck dirk do that again oh god fuck please please please and you comply, shuddering and losing your rhythm as you get closer and closer to tipping over the edge.

You cum within ten minutes and you'd be embarrassed if Dave wasn't otherwise occupied, whining as soon as you'd stopped moving and grinding back against you to try to get you moving again. You pull out, flip him over, take his cock into your hand and whisper whatever you think'll get him off into his ear.

(Such a fucking slut for me, Dave, just look at you, on your hands and knees begging for my cock.)

(Maybe if you're good enough I'll let you cum, let you paint my fucking hand white while you whimper my name, how's that sound?)

(oh god fuck dirk please let me cum please please im so fucking close oh my god)

(Now, do it now.)

(shit)

(dirk)

(Good boy.)

Dave chokes on air and gets cum all over your fingers. He twitches in your palm for a good twenty seconds afterwards, slumping to the sheets, completely limp, once he's spent. You kiss him on the nose and grab a wetwipe from the nightstand to clean him up, and he grumbles at you the entire time, complaining that that shit is way too fucking cold, why arent there pre-heated wetwipes on the market, its the 25th century, and he doesn't shut up until you've pulled the covers over the two of you and flicked off the lights.

You tease him for totally caving at the end and he vehemently denies that he did no such thing, then insists on being the big spoon. He's over a decade older than you and just got the shit fucked out of him by his little brother, so you figure he's entitled to feeling a bit insecure. He mutters half-hearted complaints about his back hurting and the bruises he's going to have in the morning, lips moving against the skin of your neck, and you mutter quiet apologies.

(Tell them you tripped down the stairs. They'll eat it up.)

(It'll be all over the headlines for months; "Movie star millionaire Dave Strider caught in ironic stair accident".)

(im going to need a damn good excuse for limping around like a complete and utter fucking cripple to hide the fact that my brother put my caboose in reverse)

(Gross.)

(you love it)

(I do.)

You fall asleep once the two of you decide you're too drowsy for banter, and wake up the next morning tangled together in a pile of legs and arms and freckled shoulders. Dave kisses you awake, says that he needs your help to get his sore ass to the shower, and that he has an interview with the vice president scheduled in two hours.

(i cant show up with jizz in my hair little dude)

You mumble something about his morning breath and tell him to just forgo his meeting with the vice president, to stay in bed with you instead.

(You can reschedule for tomorrow.)

(alright babe)

You're not sure if it's a good or bad thing that he actually listens to you.


End file.
